


Body on Edge

by icedteainthebag



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-13
Updated: 2009-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began so innocently one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body on Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://bsg-kink.livejournal.com/profile)[**bsg_kink**](http://bsg-kink.livejournal.com/)'s Humiliation Week challenge. Many thanks to [](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/profile)[**leiascully**](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/) for her research help, beta assistance and lulzy Photoshop manips.

_**Body on Edge (Laura/Richard)**_  
 **Title:** Body on Edge  
 **Author:** [](http://icedteainthebag.livejournal.com/profile)[**icedteainthebag**](http://icedteainthebag.livejournal.com/)  
 **Summary:** It began so innocently one night.  
 **Spoilers:** none  
 **Pairing:** Laura Roslin/Richard Adar  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word count:** 3,211  
 **Kinks:** bondage, d/s, humiliation, animal roleplay  


x x x x

She tightens the cuffs around her wrists, one at a time, pulling each strap through its buckle so she can feel the pulse in her wrists throb against the softened leather.

The collar fits perfectly around her neck. She tilts her head to the side, admiring the way the tendon strains against it. She knows he loves to see it extended to him while he’s frakking her senseless over his desk, like an offering to him, flesh for the taking.

She tugs the steel loop attached to the front of her collar. It’s tight. It’ll do.

She looks into the mirror for the first time, catching her own eyes before they drift down to her breasts, firmly tucked into her black mesh corset.

Her stomach is lean—she works hard on it, tells him she does it for him when she really does it for herself. She runs her fingers over it and shivers at the sensation. Her fingers drift down along the edge of the fabric, along the swath of skin that’s exposed where corset ends and her panties begin.

She turns, looks at her ass in the mirror, and admires its rounded curves, how it tucks so nicely into the fabric barely covering it.

She looks into the mirror again, now studying her face. Her cheeks are flush with arousal, her eyes widened slightly, her lips red from teeth sliding over them again and again, a nervous habit. She draws her hair behind her ear, lets her fingers twirl into the golden brown strands at her collarbone.

  
There’s a fleeting thought that always comes right before she enters his office.  
 _  
Why are you doing this, Laura?_

She always knows the answer.

She flicks off the light and gets on her hands and knees, the deep red carpet plush against her palms.

 _  
It began so innocently one night. They were both working late, deep in the trenches of his presidential campaign.  
Richard pretended like he had nowhere to go. She pretended like she did, but that she was making the time for him.  
"I've got to go in a few minutes," she kept reminding him as she read over the latest public opinion poll, the same one, over and over.  
"Just stay a little longer," he kept replying. He would lift his head and look at her, his eyes briefly meeting hers, and her heart would pound in her chest at the intensity of his gaze.  
Once she walked over to his desk and leaned against it, her body beside his chair. She didn't know what the hell she was doing, but she didn't want to stop.  
"I'm leaving."  
His hand slid up her bare knee, under her skirt, fingers squeezing her thigh. She lost her breath._

 _"Stay."_

  
She’s not allowed to look at Richard as she enters, but he’s certainly looking at her—she can feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she moves across the carpet. His breathing begins to labor as she approaches. It makes her wetter, a surge of warmth radiating between her thighs.

She nudges her head against his leg and closes her eyes at the sensation of the soft fabric of his dress pants against her cheek. His fingers gently sift through her hair. She lets out a soft sound, low from the back of her throat, and pushes more insistently against him.  
 _  
Let me look at you. Let me look into your eyes._

“Such a pretty little kitty.”

His words flow over her body, sending a tingle down her spine. She lifts her head, snags the loose fabric of his pants leg in her teeth, and stares straight at him. She whimpers at the lust in his eyes, her teeth grinding against the cloth between them.

 _  
Laura doesn’t know what it is about him that makes her want this, that makes her want to share this with him—perhaps the intoxicating effect of power, the thrill of forbidden fruit, the knowledge that this secret alone could destroy him. The way his eyes unpeel her, take her apart layer by layer, until she's quivering underneath him. He lets her lose control. He takes it from her. He doesn't give her a choice._

 _Sometimes it's the only way she'll let go._

  
She puts her hands on his knees and rises slowly, keeping his gaze. His fingertips travel over the cool skin of her shoulders and down her arms. She knows he can feel her goose bumps and that he likes her this way—fully aroused, expectant, body humming with anticipation.

She rubs her cheek against the hardness she knew she’d find at the front of his trousers and he takes a sharp breath. She hums her approval and presses her mouth against the fabric, breathing out, feeling the heat against her lips.

“Have you been good today?”

She shakes her head slowly, tugging at his pants again with her teeth. Her eyelashes bat as her heartbeat speeds up.

He hums and he cups her cheek, his palm warm. “Laura."

Her hands slide up his thighs and she scratches at the fabric with her fingernails. It makes a soft sound, like a brush sliding across silk. She makes a soft mewing sound from the back of her throat and runs her tongue slowly around the cold metal of his belt buckle. She unfastens it with trembling fingers—she blames it on excitement, not nerves—and unzips his trousers, all while staring into his eyes. She's not allowed to look away, not even when she pulls his warm, hard cock out of the slit of his boxers.

She’s throbbing now, waiting for him to give his word.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as he opens his desk drawer. He pulls out the length of leather leash and lightly hooks his finger into the steel loop at the front of her collar.

He brings the strap under her neck and she lifts her chin, licking her lips. She can feel his warmth, just inches away from her. She could reach out her tongue and lick him, if she were allowed.

She pants when she hears the click of the fastener and feels him firmly tug it.

“Suck it,” he murmurs.

 _  
She knows he loves his wife. She knows he loves his children. That's her safety, her guarantee that he will never want more of her than what they have now._

She closes her eyes and slides his cock into her mouth. She loves how he feels—his flesh tight and heated against her cheeks, grazing her teeth, sliding over her tongue. She loves the long contented moan she draws from his throat the moment she takes him in for the first time. __

 _She doesn't want to be anybody's wife. Doesn't want children. That's his safety._

 _It works out perfectly._

  
Richard's fingers tangle in her hair and he tugs on the leash rhythmically, pulling her tight, letting her loose as he fraks her mouth. She hums around him, sucks him harder, swallows the salty precum he leaves on the back of her tongue.

"So good," he breathes.

She can't help the whimper in the back of her throat as she feels herself growing wetter at the huskiness of his voice. He pulls on the leash and she slides him in as far as she can, her tongue rolling around his length. He holds her there, cock deep in her mouth, leash tightly wrapped around his fingers. She whimpers again and sucks him greedily. It's what he wants, but it's what she wants too—to have him at her mercy, knowing that at this moment she could either cause him intense pleasure or intense pain. It's all up to her.

Her breathing comes harder through her nose and she swallows around him again. He groans and her fingernails dig into the smooth fabric still covering his thighs. The collar is tight against her neck. It feels like it's chafing her skin the longer he holds her there, like it's slowly constricting her throat. She rubs her tongue firmly against his flesh, trying to distract herself from the slight burn.

He lets up on the leash and she pulls away with a sudden, deep breath, flicking her tongue against the tip of his cock and casting a heated glare up at him. Her chest heaves slightly with her breath as it settles. The swell of warmth in her abdomen betrays her, tells her she's not nearly as angry as she is aroused.

"I'm disappointed in you, Laura," he murmurs. "You could have done better."

She feels her cheeks flush. Her jaw sets. He knows what sets her off and he uses it against her so easily.

She leans in and runs the flat of her tongue along the underside of his cock. He groans, then chuckles and gently tugs her away by her leash.

"Too late for that," he says.

He pulls up on her leash again, harder this time. She rises, standing up straight in front of him. He lets the leash slacken.

She enjoys the rare moment in which he allows her to tower over him. His eyes flicker over her body and he leans in, pressing his mouth against her abdomen. It's hot as he breathes out, even hotter as his tongue laves over her and his mouth sucks on her skin through the thin mesh fabric of her corset.

He slides a hand up the inside of her thigh and traces the tiny strip of cloth between her legs. She feels her body shiver at his touch and he pulls his mouth away from her stomach.

"You're wet."

She blushes furiously and he nudges her thighs apart with his hand. She relents to him, cocking her head and biting the inside of her cheek. She lowers her gaze and focuses on the movement of his hand.

"This," he breathes, tracing her with feather-light fingers, "is all for me, isn't it?"

She's throbbing so hard, arousal and shame washing over her. She wants to grab his wrist and shove his hand against her and rub against it until she comes.

Instead, she nods, swallowing dryly.

He moves her panties aside with two fingers and slides them through her slickened folds. She nearly cries out with relief, but keeps it inside her, a strangled groan in her throat.  
 _  
Come the frak on, you selfish prick._

There is always a point at which she starts getting angry with him, frustrated at his pace, anguishing over the current radiating through her body and her inability to do anything about it.

It's all a part of the game—waiting desperately for release.

She's snapped back to attention by a sharp tug on her leash, followed by an even more shocking penetration by his fingers, forceful and deep inside her. She cries out, nearly losing her balance at the force of his pull on her neck.

He doesn't wait. He fraks her with his fingers then, hard thrusts in, long, smooth draws out. She whimpers each time, yet stands up as straight as possible, not giving in to him. He watches so calmly, like he's reading the morning paper, like this is nothing to him.

Her hips start moving with his hand—she can't help it. He notices immediately and pulls sharply down on her collar to bring her face level with his own.

"Not until I tell you."

She takes a long breath and stares into his deep blue eyes.

"Frak me."

She knows she isn't supposed to say it and her voice is but a whisper, but it's a challenge nonetheless.

"What did you say?"

His low tone makes a thrill flutter in the pit of her stomach, a complex mix of fear and arousal.

"I said," she says, moving closer so that her lips are nearly touching his, "frak me."

She can feel the energy between them, the hot breath exchanged across their parted lips.

"Is that what you want?"

She snags his lower lip between her teeth and bites on it, just hard enough to taste the iron of his blood, then kisses him hard, their teeth gnashing together. He twists the leash around his fingers, holding her tightly as his tongue forces its way into her mouth.

She knows she has to work fast before he notices what's happening and stops her. She climbs onto the chair, straddling him with her knees at his sides. She groans into his mouth as his hard cock slides against the sensitive skin between her legs.

Tearing at his shirt from collar downward, she yanks at the buttons until they rip off. She rakes her fingernails up his undershirt and scratches his nipples hard enough to make him gasp.

Then she shoves her panties aside and grabs his cock, and it's only a few quick seconds before she slides down onto him. She cries out against his lips, sucking on his tongue.

She begins to ride him as hard as she can, using one hand to rub herself frantically. She wants to get off, wants to come so badly. Her fingers are wet, nearly too wet as they slide over her clit.

Her other hand twists the back of his hair. He's got a tight hold on her leash and it limits her movement—every time she lifts her body she feels the chafing of the collar against the back of her neck as he pulls her back down on to him. She reciprocates, yanking on his hair and staring into his eyes as they continue kissing.

She feels her body start to quiver around him, sweet release building inside her body as his cock courses through her.

 _  
They're a tangled mess in high-thread-count cotton sheets in some conference-resort hotel on Aerilon, air conditioning on high. Her hair is sticking to her neck as she stares up at the ceiling fan whirring above their heads.  
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," she breathes, grazing her fingernails listlessly down her sides.  
He's lying beside her and she's been listening to his breath, the echoes of his groans and her cries still a vivid memory from moments before.  
"You want to stop, you let me know."  
She traces her nipple with her finger, feels it harden to her touch.  
"You know, you should be the one to stop. You're the one with the obligations. You're the one with everything to lose."  
He turns on his side and presses into her. The lean muscles of his body are warm and comforting against her cooling, sweat-dampened skin.  
"You don't want me to stop," he murmurs, breath hot on her ear.  
He knows her by now._

  
Laura breaks the kiss to moan as she rides him harder, her fingers working rapid circles where their bodies are joined.

"Oh, Gods," she whispers, her breath hitching. "Oh, Gods..."

Richard grabs her wrist roughly and yanks her hand out from between them. She pants, her body on edge, and tries to rub her hips up against his stomach, anything to get the friction she needs to come.

"Get off of me," he says, his voice soft and demanding.

"Richard, please—"

"Get off of me now."

She rises wordlessly, a lump in her throat. She slides off of the chair, her body still throbbing from being on the brink of release. He stands up and she looks away, chewing angrily on her lip.

"I think," he says with a pause as he runs his finger down her jawline. "You need to lie on the desk now."

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, refuses to face him, to give him the eye contact she knows he expects. That thrill is swirling in her stomach again, the excitement of breaking yet another rule combined with her heightened arousal.

She gasps as he jerks hard on her leash. She'd almost forgotten he had it in his fist until she felt the sharp sting of her collar against her neck. He pulls her to the desk and she follows him, knowing she has no choice in the matter. He draws the leash over his desk, pulling her body with it. She slides her palms over the smooth mahogany desktop and relents, bending over and curling her fingers over the far end of the desk.

"Tell me you want this."

She does, and he knows it. She spreads her legs for him and turns her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"I want this," she murmurs, the words making her throb more.

He gives a hard tug on her leash.

"Louder."

"I want this," she says, her voice low and firm.

She feels his free hand run up the back of her thighs and lets out a long breath of relief as he works her panties down her legs. She feels his tongue then, flat and warm against her hip, sliding across until his teeth sink gently into the curve of her ass. She cries out softly at the slight pain as he bites one side, then the other.

"How hard?" he asks.

She feels his cock against her upper thigh and bites back a moan.

"As hard as you can," she breathes.

He thrusts into her then without warning and she whimpers as he fills her, her hips hitting the edge of the desk. It feels so good, so frakking good despite the slight pain as his cock hits the end of her, over and over.

She lifts her hips slightly to work her hand between her legs. She groans as her fingers find her swollen and ready.

 _It won't take long._

Richard leans over her body, his chest hot against her back as he grinds his hips into her. She feels his hand on her arm and she groans through gritted teeth as he pulls her hand out from between her legs yet again. He pins it against the desk and she whimpers with frustration.

"Not this time," he growls with a hard thrust into her body.

She squeezes her eyes shut and shifts her hips, desperate for the right angle... she could come this way, if he hits it just right...

She begs for him to frak her harder, faster. She starts to feel herself coming, slowly and surely, her cries mounting in the lonely space around them.  
 _  
I could destroy you._

****

Laura comes with a strangled cry, her eyelids squeezed shut, knees pressed to his hips. She twists her body against his hard thrust, her fingernails raking his chest. The warm rush over her body is intense and hits her head in a dizzying wave.

She feels the sharp jerks of his muscular hips as fraks her hard, his body rising to meet hers, over and over.

"Yeah," he groans, his voice a low growl. "Frak."

She takes a sharp breath at the sound of his voice and looks down, her eyes widened.

He grunts as he empties himself inside her, his powerful thrust nearly knocking her off balance.

She studies his face, wondering what stories he has to tell.

He's panting and his eyes slowly open. He gives her a soft smile, his hands sliding up her damp thighs.

"Madame President."

"Hello, Commander," she says on a breath.  
  



End file.
